


Trouble Stirs in Kephallonia

by Mac_N_Chez



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Ancient Greece, Fighting, Gen, Thats a lie i love markos, This was meant to be more than a oneshot, anyway, but like here we are, fluff??, im bad at tagging, markos sucks, there was gonna be deancas, why does this go so hard???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mac_N_Chez/pseuds/Mac_N_Chez
Summary: Dean Winchester has to deal with the stupid mistakes of Markos, and ends up getting involved with the whole of Greece as well





	Trouble Stirs in Kephallonia

Dean sat on his roof humming a tune he’d heard in the market days earlier as the sun burned down onto his skin. The sea is distant but still visible from where he sat, the sounds of the waves muffled by the distance of land. It had been a while since he’d been to Sami, he had been mostly fine on supplies, not to mention the constant fucking harrassment from Cyclops’ men. He played with the blade in his hands, if only he could ju-

“Hey, shitface! Get down here!” A voice screamed at him.

_ Oh, great, they’re back.  _

Dean turned on his feet, moving to the other side of the roof and squatting down to see his harassers. One man had a shield on his back and a full beard. The other man on the left didn’t seem to have any weapons on him, but knowing cyclops’ men, he did somewhere. 

The same voice screamed up at Dean, “Cyclops got a message for you!” . The man seemed to not get  _ Dean’s  _ message earlier in the week. Dean jumped down from his roof in front of the men, the fall causing his feet to burn with the impact. He didn’t stumble; he would take the pain if it meant being dramatic. 

“You can tell your boss to stick it--”

He was cut off by the man on the left punching him in the face. He stumbled backward, trying to recover quickly, but he felt hot blood coming down his nose. 

“That’s for last week!” The shield man yelled at him, gesturing wildly. 

_ Gods, do they ever shut up? _

Dean spit on the ground, the taste of copper in his mouth. “Maláka!” He turned around to face the men as they drew their swords.  _ Well, this is going to be fun, he _ thinks to himself, preparing his own spear.

“The Cyclops said you like to act tough!” the man on the left said, quickly moving into a defensive pose, “So act tough!”

Dean laughed, flipping his spear just for the drama of it all, “Get a little closer, and I will.”

The shielded man began trying to hit him as Dean dodged. “You should know by now, the cyclops always collects his debts,” he says as Dean parrys him, throwing the man off balance for one good slash to the side.

He was getting really sick of this really fast. He knocked the first man out with a quick hit to the back of the head. The body dropping like a sack of potatoes onto the dirt. They were lucky he felt merciful today, he was too tired to care if they died or not.

“You’ve got a lesson to learn,” the shielded man tried to get out just before Dean hit him with the hilt of his spear, knocking him out cold, his body soon a mirror of his friends on the ground.

“Last week?” he sighs, rubbing at his elbows, “this shit happens  _ every  _ week _.”  _ He kneels down near the well by his house trying to catch his breath. Cyclops  _ always _ did things like this, terrorizing the town, Dean was just the mercenary caught in the middle of it.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he says to no one as he hits his head against the back of the well, the pain somewhat grounding him. Baby lands on a pole a few feet away, her caw loudly breaking through the silence of the area. 

He lets out a dry, bitter laugh, “Thanks for the warning.” Baby was a hawk who journeyed with him to Kephallonia, she’s been around just as long as Dean has. She’s always been with him, so much so that people have started calling him “Dean Winchester The Eagle-Bearer.” It was a fun enough name, gave him credit where there was few.

He hears the pitter patter of steps up the dirt road as he holds his nose to try and stop any more blood from spilling out. The skipping stopped when they got close enough to see him. 

“What happened to you?” Jack asks, concern lacing his tone. 

“It’s nothing, Jack. All taken care of now.” 

Jack steps over the unconscious bodies towards Dean like this was a regular occurrence for him, knowing Kephallonia, it probably was. “The Cyclops again, huh? Hasn’t he learned his lesson yet?” He asks, walking over to a table and sitting right down in the middle of it, his gold hair shining in the light of the sun behind him. 

“Apparently not.”

He reached for the food on the table, making Dean roll his eyes, “Of course,” he said sarcastically, “Help yourself.” 

Baby swiftly flew next to Jack, flapping her wings wide, before quickly trying to get closer to the food. 

“Hungry too, Baby?” Jack laughed, feeding her an onion. Jack looked up at Dean for a second before asking, “Do you think Zeus will bless me with an Eagle like he blessed you, Dean?” He waited a beat before adding, “Maybe you could… ask him for me!” 

Dean rolled his eyes, finally getting up from his place on the ground, “I’ll try to put in a good word for you.” 

“Finally!” 

Crossing his arms, Dean watched Baby and Jack, “So, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I almost forgot! Markos is looking for you,” he says, shifting nervously in his seat on top of the table. So this wasn’t just a house call to see his bird, that’s good to hear at least.

Unfolding his arms Dean sighs,  _ Markos.  _ “What does that weasel want now?”

Jack shifts again, less nervous this time. “Don’t know. He just wants you to meet him at his new house,” he pauses, “On his  _ vineyard _ .” 

“What? A vineyard? Maláka!” 

“It’s on the road to Sami, he says wine will make him rich!”

Markos, the weasel, has never thought things all the way through, the fucking  _ imbicile.  _ He’s never even  _ grown  _ grapes, what is he thinking buying a vineyard? “Since when has Markos had a vineyard?”

“Since yesterday, I think?”

“So, Markos,  _ who owes me drachmae,  _ is buying vineyards? With what money?” Dean asks, gesturing at himself, before staring at Jack.

He just looks back at him guiltily, like not knowing the answer was a crime, “I dunno.” 

“Well,” Dean says, turning to face the road, “I guess I owe Markos a little visit.”

__________

When he finally found Markos, he was talking to what looked like a farmer. “You must forget what you know about the past my friend, together, we will revolutionize wine making!--” Dean walked into Markos who quickly turned around to look at him. 

“Dean! Thank the gods Jack found you in time!” he said backing away from Dean.  _ The rat. _

“I was worried sick! The Cyclops sent his scum to find you! I think they mean you harm!” 

Dean’s blood was  _ boiling _ , “I wish you had told me that  _ before  _ they started hitting me! But that’s beside the point. You bought a vineyard, Markos? A vineyard!” He was this close to just punching Markos in the gut, it was rude and wouldn’t teach him anything, but Dean was  _ beyond  _ pissed. It was  _ just typical  _ of Markos to buy a vineyard when he didn’t know  _ shit  _ about grapes, and  _ then to top it all off  _ Markos owed  _ him  _ money.’

Markos immediately tries to defend himself, not even hurt by his words, “Why not? I like wine, you like wine, everybody likes wine! Everybody buys wine! Why not from me?”

Dean sighs, wiping his hand down his face, “Markos,” he pauses exasperatedly before staring at him pointedly, “You don’t know how to grow grapes or make wine.”

Markos, once again quick to defend himself, steps closer to Dean, gesturing wildly to make his point, “I’m a fast learner. You grow grapes on the vine! Then you make some grapes into wine! Simple as that!” 

He could not be that stupid. On second thought, no, he was. Dean had been dealing with Markos since he was around 11, and he has almost always been this weasel of a man. Markos doesn’t really look like a weasel, his face is actually quite round creating the opposite of the weasel effect, but he has always been slick and conniving, quick to schemes without thinking them through. 

Dean huffed out a laugh, “It’s that simple is it?”

“You know me better than to not have a plan! Markos always has a plan!”

The younger man stared at him pointedly, “Alright then, so you have the money you owe me?” 

“Do I have the money I owe you? Of course! Of course!” Markos responded before slowly adding, “Well… no. Not at the moment.”

“Then. Get. It.” Dean grits out, anger pouring from all of his features, stepping closer to the winemaker, who quickly put his hands up in defense.

“Instantly, my friend, instantly. But -- maybe you should do that. There is a Merchant in Sami -- I’m not very good at these things as you know.”

“You want me-” Dean says, gesturing wildly, “to collect my  _ own  _ debt.” 

“It’s just waiting for you in Sami, my friend!”

Dean sighs again, “Who’s the merchant?”

“Duris! You know Duris! He’s nice!”

“Duris? How stupid can you get?! Stop lending him money!” 

“He always pays me back,” Markos defends.

“After  _ I  _ threaten him!” 

“Exactly!” Everybody benefits! -- Duris gets his money! I get my interest -- you get your work! Kephallonia is wonderful, is it not?”

Dean glared daggers at the older man, “He’d better have my money, Markos. I’d hate to have to sell  _ our _ vineyard. And I’m taking a horse with me, it’s too hot and too long a walk to go on foot.” Dean turns away from Markos walking towards his horses as Markos quickly scurries behind him.

“But--”

“Think of it as interest, Markos,” Dean interrupts with smug satisfaction, “everybody benefits.” 

Markos nods quickly, not wanting to upset his very strong friend, with very real knives, any further, “yes, yes, of course, you shall have your pick.”

_______

Dean ultimately chose a horse named Phobos. The horses’ feet stomped loudly through the dirt streets, people quickly moving out of the way of him. While Sami was a popular marketplace, many people didn’t have to travel far to sell things, if they didn’t already live in Sami to begin with. Seeing a horse usually meant a foreigner, a richmen, or a soldier, so most didn’t play their luck when it came to horses stopping for them. 

The streets were flooded with people selling things: pots, fruits, vegetables, clothing, meats, you name it. The market was truly alive as music played on street corners and wafted around the beaches like the songs of sirens. War was stirring through Greece, anyone and everyone who could make a profit from it was working overtime to be the one to provide to the soldiers on either side. Kephallonia was neither an island protected by Sparta or Athens, making selling easier, but getting attacked much easier as well. 

This of course opened up the ability for meaningless men to fearmonger their way into power, like  _ The Cyclops.  _ He thought he ran Kephallonia just because people feared he would kill them or their crops. He had a vendetta against Dean because he didn’t care if Cyclops ran Kephallonia or not, he was not voted into his role, who was he to rule? Cyclops didn’t represent the people, only himself.

And hey, if Dean got paid to kill some of his men, then that was just how he got paid. 

He turned a corner towards Duris’ stand. Avoiding the orange and brown pots everywhere, Dean slid off of Phobos’ back, feet hitting the ground hard yet again. He would need new boots at this rate. He nodded at the blacksmith across from the Pot Maker’s stand, friendship never hurt in a mercenaries line of work. He turned to face the pot maker. Duris was a thin man, he had dark hair that was slowly turning gray at the end, his debt was surely not helping that process either. He turned to greet him with the expectation that he was a customer, seeing it was Dean, he backed up nervously before hitting the front of a pot laying on the ground.

“Duris,” Dean said, staring at him with a bored expression. He hated house calls, even if this  _ was  _ a shop, people always wanted to be away from things they paid for when this type of stuff went down. “Business seems good,” he finished, gesturing at his shop.

“Tell Markos that if he wants his money he can come down here and get it himself,” Duris said, putting on faux confidence that would have been believable if not for his hand ticking nervously at his side.

“Ah, but I’m here now.” the unspoken threat heavy in the summer air.

Duris sighed, “Look, I was a little late paying. Now Markos says I owe him double because of interest. I don’t have it to spare!” 

“You should have thought about that  _ before  _ you borrowed the drachmae, Duris.”

“But, my family—“

Dean cut him off, pacing on the ground in front of his small shop, “It’s hot, I’m in a bad mood, and you’re going to pay. We both know it. The question is, what do I break first— you, or the merchandise.” He gestured with the edge of his spear at a pot in his peripheral vision. He needed that money or he was going to have to do twice his normal amount of work to make up for it. 

Duris walked towards him, angrier now, “You tell Markos I’ve paid enough already! I won’t bow to, to,” he paused for a half second, fidgeting nervously, “to a mercenary! Or to a man who borrowed money from the Cyclops!” He finished gesturing in the direction of the Cyclops’ dock south of Sami before crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

“From the Cyclops? That’s how he got his vineyard?” 

“Look, I know you’d be dead without Markos, him picking you off the street as a kid and everything, but even you know what he’s doing is crazy!” Duris did have a point, half of Markos’ schemes were never well thought out, but even he knew not to borrow money from the cyclops. 

_ Well, apparently not _ . 

Dean shot one last glance at Duris, “Maláka! Fine, you don’t have to give me your drachmae, but if I hear you borrowing from Markos again, I won’t be as kind as I am now.” He quickly got back onto the saddle of his horse. 

_________

Dean walked up to where Markos stood with another man near his house. The man was much stronger than Markos, and by quite a lot. He could just hear the conversation from where he stood.

“You’re running out of time until the Cyclops comes for you, Maláka, He wants his money!”

“Could I have an extension?”

The brute got closer to Markos, getting in his face, “When he sails back to Kephallonia, he’ll come and break you as soon as he docks, if you don’t get it.”

“Now let’s be civil-”

The man cut him off, “you can’t hide behind your Misthios forever, Markos. He’ll kill you, the mercenary, and that little runt boy you keep around.” 

Dean was just about ready to kill the man on the spot, it would only cause more problems for himself and Markos, but no one insulted Jack like that  _ and  _ got away with it.

“Of course! Not a problem! I-I’ll get your drachmae!” Markos reassures the man.

The brute nods at that, “Good, or I’ll come and watch the Cyclops feed you to his goats.” The man turned and walked away just as Dean walks up to Markos, the Brute was even uglier up close.

“Ah Dean! I can tell by the smile on your face that Duris has paid you your money!”

Dean’s anger grew at that, he was sick of Markos’ easy going attitude with his quickly approaching debt, far too optimistic for his own good. “Who’s smiling? I just found out where you got the money for your vineyard. Really Markos? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“We can get the money back! Can’t we? I’m sure it’s possible!” Markos tries to reassure him. Why he is reassuring Dean on basically his own written Death sentence is beyond him though. 

He sighs, “We’re going to have to now, we need a plan.”

“That’s what I do best!” 

Dean stared at him, unamused, “This will take more than the usual tricks up your sleeve.”

Markos lets out a long sigh, turning to look at the sea just visible beyond the vineyard, “I long for the old days, remember them? They were simple! You had nothing -- young and alone -- and I had everything! And I gave you the world! Kephallonia in the palm of your hand!” 

This was true, when Dean had run from the people pursuing him that night on the mountain he had stolen on a fisher’s boat with nothing but Baby and his spear to join him. He’d washed up days later on Kephallonia, far away from Sparta and the world he knew. Markos had offered him bread and shelter for work and he had quickly agreed, desperate to eat. He’d grown up with him then, becoming a mercenary to make ends meet. 

He huffed out a laugh, “Kephallonia, some gift.”

“You were nothing without Markos, and look how far we’ve come! From a boy on the streets to a misthios with a hovel!”

“And now the Cyclops will take everything away! I can’t protect you from him forever, he’ll kill me too.” 

Markos waves him off, “Ohh, don’t be scared of him! Look at you!”

“How could I go up against him! With what weapons? A rusty spear? A broken bow?”

“You’ll figure it out!” he reassures, but Dean was not so sure, he’d never even seen the cyclops, who knew what the man looked like. 

Dean looks at him, unimpressed, “So what is your plan anyway?”

Markos perks up at this, he did always love over complicated plans. Dean just hopes it’s simpler than the last time Markos came up with  _ a plan, “ _ Right! The Cyclops and I have a score of drachmae to settle! The same score as  _ you,  _ my rough-and-tumble friend!” He jokes hitting his shoulder lightly.

“He wouldn’t be after me if it wasn’t for  _ you, ‘my friend’,” _ Dean says, annoyance dripping from his tone like poison on his lips. 

The winemaker laughs nervously at that. “Right! But -- I swear, this will put an end to it! If he insists on sending his goons after us, we’ll make sure his last good day was  _ yesterday.”  _

He sighs again, sick of this, “Go on, what do I have to do--”

“You mean what do we have to do!” Markos interjects, “as the brains to you brawn, I consider this a joint effort.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, “Of course you do.”

“The Cyclops arrives in town in a few days, you lay low for a while and when he docks you show up and kill him and all of his men!” The winemaker explains excitedly.

“How is  _ that _ a  _ plan? _ It’s barely an idea, Markos!” Dean shouts, anger building in his toes and slowly rising up his body. 

“Like I said before, I’m sure you’ll figure it out!” Markos finishes before walking away.

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes and walking over to where Phobos was tied up, “Markos, always the optimist.” 

________

Dean snuck onto the pier at night, keeping a low profile by the rock face behind some buildings. He had already taken out 3 of the Cyclops’ men, getting ready to face his last men and the brute himself. He could see from his hiding place The Cyclops dunking a bearded man into a large pot of water, interrogating him. 

“The Gods as my witness! I swear!” the man getting dunked into the water croaked out, trying to breathe heavily in between dunks.

“Which ones!” Cyclops barked out.

“What difference does it make--” the man tried to get out before getting his head dunked into the water again. Once he was finally let out of the water again he yelled “All of them! I swear! All of them!” Dean took the distraction to slip out from his hiding spot and stand in front of the men, waiting for them to realize he was there. There were only 3 really, including the Cyclops himself, everyone else had already been killed in preparation. 

Cyclops seemed to be upset at what the man had said though, “I’ve never heard so much fucking god talk from a man in all my days!” 

“Let him go.” 

All heads turned to look at Dean, who was standing leisurely, like nothing at all mattered in the world, tossing Cyclops’ obsidian eye up and down in his hand. Dean had stolen it from his house hours prior to sell at market, he now had a new plan. He tracked the ball with his eyes like it was the most interesting thing in the world, before looking back at Cyclops with a bored expression painting his face.

Cyclops’ face however painted one of rage, he was furious, gritting out, “No one on this fucking island is allowed to say that word!” Screaming the last part at the face of the man whose face was currently underwater.

“Did he say Cyclops?” Dean asked, looking altogether bored with the conversation, “Did he hurt your feelings?” The mocking only angered Cyclops more.

“I don’t like it when they call me that!” The man underwater screamed, struggling against the Cyclops’ hand. He let his head go, causing the man to violently come up for air. Cyclops turned to look at him. 

“I didn’t! I --” he was quickly interrupted with his face once again being shoved underwater.

Dean continued tossing the eye up and down, up and down, looking back at the men once more. “But you’re so fat -- I mean big and strong -- and you really do only have one eye.” As he finished he tilted the eye, just to prove to Cyclops that he had it, it glimmered in the soft moonlight that lit the open plaza they stood in.

Cyclops immediately dropped the man’s face when he realized that Dean had his eye, “My eye, how did you get my eye? Give it to me now!”

Dean looked at him with an amused expression, Cyclops looked like a child throwing a tantrum for not getting extra honey on his bread. 

“Give it to me and I won’t kill Markos for getting you to steal it! Give it to me!”

“You want it?” Dean asked, walking up to one of Cyclops goats and shoving the eye up it’s ass. He hit the goats back, causing her to run in the other direction. Dean looked back up at Cyclops, amusement painted on his face, “Go get it.”

Cyclops screamed, staring at the goat as it ran up the stairs towards a field close by. 

Dean had to admit it was an oddly easy fight for someone who was running a whole island. Killing Cyclops himself only took a stab to the heart with his spear, twisting it before watching him fall to the ground in agony. 

He laughed to himself, “The Beast of legend, huh?” Surprisingly, the other two men didn’t cower in fear immediately both trying to run at him at the same time. One sweep of the legs and both were on the ground, before they knew it their heads were rolling across the dirt covered cement. 

This of course was not all of his men, but they were the only ones there that night. He had to hurry, he quickly cut the ropes binding the tied up man. 

“We shouldn’t delay here any further, even rats like these have friends in Kephallonia,” he said to the man.

As they ran through the small dock, wind hitting their faces, a refreshing feeling compared to the hot summer’s heat. The man turned his head back to look at Dean while continuing to run, “It’s good that you’re on my side! They really seem to fear you!”

Finally they stopped a ways away from the docks where Cyclops’ body lay dead on the ground. The man finally turned to fully look at Dean, “I can’t thank you enough! After spending most of my life at sea, it would have been absolutely painful to drown in a pot!” 

He paused again before realization dawned on his face, “Ah! Where are my manners? I am Bobby, Captain of the Andrestia.” He bowed in front of Dean before quickly standing up straight again. 

“Well Bobby, I am pleased to meet you. I am Dean, misthios by trade.”

Bobby laughed at that, “Oh, but you’re much more than that, I’m sure!”

Dean looked at him curiously, Bobby was strange that’s for sure, a man Kephallonia has never seen the likes of before, “What do you mean?”

“Ah, when they forced my head underwater I prayed to the gods. And when they pulled me out, there you were!” 

“All of Kephallonia heard your prayers, I just happened to be closest,” he laughed. 

Bobby looked back at him, amused, “Oh? And you just happen to fight like Achilles with Zeus’ Eagle flying above your head?” Dean liked this old man; he could imagine him to be amusing to have a drink with, especially with the way he talks. Baby seemed to like him too, the way she hovered close by on a poll, watching them like, well, a hawk.

“So what made those men so angry?”

“Oh you know, I tell them a tale of my last voyage, and suddenly they start acting like savages!”

Dean had to stop and laugh at the gruff man’s tone with that last part, “What tale could you tell that would make them so upset?”

Bobby sat down on a rock near where they were standing, motioning for Dean to sit as well. “My last voyage, we met a man floating on a raft, before he passed he told us a tale that could make your blood run cold. Something about a horrifying creature, ugly beyond description. I mentioned something about a ‘one-eyed monster.’ Next thing I know I’m drowning in a clay pot!”

He laughs again, “Yes, the cyclops tends to take that personally,” he paused a moment before adding, “So, you have a ship.”

“Yes,” the man sighed, “Gods forbid I end up stuck in this place.”

“Where is it now?”

“Thanks to you, boy, it’s still in Sami harbor, where I left it.”

“Perhaps the fates brought us together after all, I’m in need of a ship and a crew.” Dean said, drawing shapes in the dirt with his spear. 

Dean had received a letter from a man in Athens needing a Spartan general killed in Megaris. This would be his first time leaving Kephallonia since he arrived there as a child. He needed a ship and crew to get to Megaris and other places beyond that.

The man laughed at that “You saved my life! It would disgust the gods to not offer it in return!”

“So that’s a yes?” He asked hesitantly. 

“My ship, my crew, and my service are yours!”

“You truly aren’t from around here.”

“Haha no! Thank the gods for that, now come now and see the Andrestia!” Bobby said, getting up from his seat on the rock. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is in fact one of my better fics, I wish I did more with it


End file.
